There were shouts overhead, and then the sound of bottles breaking on the floor. The door to the basement banged open, and Ginny barged in, binding all the purple robed people in thick ropes. Ginny was followed by Harry, Ron, and a dozen other aurors. They scoured the area, rennervating people and then shackling them to take them up and out. Harry rushed over to Hermione and Draco.

“Are you okay?” he pressed a kiss onto her forehead.

“I’m not the one who was abducted, Harry,” Hermione returned his affection, but rolled her eyes. She removed the silencing charm from over Draco, “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he replied sardonically.

“You’re alive,” Harry pointed out, before giving Draco a gentle thump on the back. 

“Kingsley would like to meet you two,” Ron came over, waving his wand in the direction of the exploded wall. THe pieces grated back into place.

“Alright,” Hermione said. 

She was still furious at Ron. But she knew, now better than ever, that holding grudges did nobody any good. They would never be able to go back to being how they were before, but they could be friends. 

“Ron,” she said without completely planning to. Ron stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. Hermione breathed in, “I forgive you.”

His face slackened, then he began stammering and bumbling like an idiot, “I, oh well I- well…”

“You’re supposed to say thank you,” Harry reminded him.

“Yea, right, uh,” Ron rubbed the back of his neck, cleared his throat, “thank you.” He paused, “We- we’re still friends, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione affirmed. Ron cracked a small grin and nodded, then turned and disappeared up the stairs.

“‘Mione!” Ginny sank to the floor beside Hermione, having bound the last member of Rena’s, “Good to see you alive, Malfoy.”

“Gee, thanks,” Draco said, letting Ginny ruffle his hair. He grunted in displeasure right after. Hermione suppressed a chuckle and placed a few of the strands in place. He gazed up at her, then asked, “Mother and Father, are they…?”

“They’re safe,” Ginny assured him, “in Zabini Manor. We’ll track down the remaining people with Rena if there are any.”

“And the charges against us?” Draco asked.

“That’s what Kingsley wants to meet you for,” GInny informed them, and stood, “come on, Harry, we’ve got to be there for the interrogations.”

“Right,” Harry stood, nodded at both of them, smiled meaningfully at Hermione, then left.

Draco had released himself from her hold, and now they both sat facing each other. Hermione reached out to rub some dirt from his nose.

“Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss into her palm.

“What for?” she shrugged, “You would have done the same for me.”

“Still,” he said, very seriously, “I’m not only thanking you for today. I’m thanking you for everything else.”

“You don’t have to,” Hermione said.

They lapsed into silence. Hermione remembered that Draco had been saying something before she had rudely silenced him.

“What were you saying before I silencioed you?” Hermione asked. 

His face fell. She waited for him to answer, but when he didn’t, she prodded him gently on his forehead, “Tell me.”

“It was nothing,” he shook his head.

“Don’t lie to me,” Hermione frowned.

He sighed and looked away from her, staring at the wall, “The curse I was hit with.”

“Go on.” She prompted.

“It,” he heaved another sigh, “It’s a new curse developed by Rena.”

Something told Hermione this couldn’t be good. 

“They were talking about it,” Draco said, still not looking at her, “before we came here, we were at Podmore’s house. That’s where they deprived me of my shirt and had their go at physically abusing me. Francis wanted to kill me immediately, but another wanted to try this curse on me. It doesn’t have a name from all that i could gather.”

“What does it do?” Hermione asked when he stopped speaking.

“It causes the victim’s lungs to…” he broke off again. Tears welled up in his eyes, “It will cause my lungs to collapse. There’s no counter spell.”

Their surroundings suddenly began spinning. The air seemed to be laced with poison, making it hard to breathe. If there ever were words spoken with an intent to hurt the listener, Hermione was sure that they were these. They plunged into her heart like a jagged blade, tearing and ripping. 

“There has to be a counter curse,” she shook her head, sliding away from him so that he couldn’t touch her, “Kingsley will know. Poppy may know something, or we can ask Professor Slughorn.”

“Hermione-”

“Maybe Harry knows someone who can help,” Hermione forcefully ignored him, “he knows a few exceptional healers.”

“Listen to me-”

“Me and Poppy can work on finding the counter curse,” Hermione was speaking in a rush. There was something hot and wet sliding down her cheeks. Tears or blood, she did not know, “I’m sure if we combine a few things then-”

“Please just listen to me!” he had slid over to her and had grabbed a hold of both of her wrists to stop them from raking through her hair. She didn’t even realise she had been doing it.

“No!” she didn’t mean to shout, it had just happened, “How can you be so calm and just sit here while knowing you’re going to die? Why won’t you let me worry over you and try to find a solution?”

“It’s a new curse,” he spoke calmly, smiling a little, looking utterly resigned, “Counter curses take years to develop. Even with someone as smart as you, it won’t be easy.”

“Stop it!” she wrenched her hands away from his and stood up, “Stop looking like you’re fine with this.”

“It won’t help if you fret over it,” Draco tried to reach out again. A few tears slipped past his eyes, leaving tracks on his dusty face.

“You can’t die!” Hermione said, her voice shrill and sounding distant to her ears, “Not when i just got you back! Everyone’s always leaving, why can’t you stay?”

Her last few words mingled with her strangled sobs. She sank down again, and pulled her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them. He looked at her with sad, remorseful eyes even though none of this was his fault. Reluctantly, as though afraid she would lash out, he wrapped her in his arms.

“It’s not like I’m dying tomorrow,” he tried to sound humorous, “don’t you think it’ll be better if we spend time together making memories rather than crying over what can’t be changed?"

"That doesn't mean it goes away, does it?" She said.

"We still have time," Draco said, smoothing a hand over her hair. 

"But why can't you just stay forever?" She hated how whiny she sounded. 

But she couldn't help it. Throughout her life, people he'd been leaving and dying and disappearing. Nobody was permanent, bar Harry and Ginny and, until two years previously, Ron. Everything was always changing. People left her. Nobody stayed because they simply wanted to be with her. Instead, they left because they had succeeded in finding some flaw, some crack, in her character, and made that a reason to leave. She had made her parents leave her. Her friends left her sometimes too. She was just sick and tired of people leaving all the time.

"Nothing stays forever," Draco said, his deep, even breathing working like a calmer to Hermione, "you can either cherish things for the time they're with you, or cry about when they'll be gone."

"When did you get so wise?" Hermione let out a snort of laughter, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. 

"I have always been wise," he said teasingly, tugging at her hair, "come on. We're expected to meet Kingsley."

"It's not fair," Hermione closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

"It isn't," Draco said, "but who knows, maybe you'll be able to figure something out, yea?"

Hermione gave him a weak smile, "Can you apparate?"

"I don't think so," he said, pursing his lips, "the cruciatus…"

"I know," she said, preventing him from speaking any further, "come on."

"We're going to walk to the Ministry?" Draco scoffed.

"There isn't any other option," Hermione said. She helped him stand up, grimacing when he flinched. 

"I think I'd better cover up, wouldn't want girls mooning all over me," Draco said, smirking playfully at her. She rolled her eyes and conjured a shirt. He buttoned it up with fumbling fingers. Hermione had to button the last three. 

"Well, we have a long walk ahead of us," Hermione said, when they were out of the old apothecary. 

"I'm fine with it, but just because it's with you and not Potter," Draco said, nudging her. 

"You've gone soft, Draco," she poked a finger at his shoulder, "never thought I'd see the day. Draco Ferretface Malfoy, the cold emotionless Slytherin who acted as though-"

She was silenced when he pressed his lips into hers without warning. A small squeak of surprise escaped her, but she quickly melted into it. He placed a hand on the small of her back, and raised the other to the back of her neck. He held her gently. 

"What was that for?" She asked breathily when he pulled away.

"Just because I wanted to," he said, his lips quirking up in a smile, "I missed you."

"It's been an hour," Hermione laughed. 

"Still missed you," he kissed the top of her nose. She blushed furiously and turned away.

"You really have gone soft," she said, in an attempt to make the situation humorous. 

"But you like me this way," he said, his eyebrows raised, "don't you?"

"What do you think?" she asked, still trying to lighten the mood. 

He faltered, and his face fell. Hermione realised that he was being very serious, so serious that he took her joking words to heart, and immediately made to say something else, "I do, Draco. I do."

"Alright," he said, smiling again. 

"Come on, we have to go," she said, dipping her fingers into his palm.

"I don't want to," he said. 

She turned to look at him. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. He was looking fixedly at her lips. She licked them self consciously, wincing at how chapped they were. 

"Draco, you know we have to," she said, trying not to sound nervous.

"Yea I know," he said, smirking a little, "let's go."

He draped an arm around her waist, and they began their long walk. 

---------

"Took a while to get here?" Harry smirked at her as soon as she entered his office. 

"Harry," she warned, but couldn't help the smile that formed on her face, "stop being such a pervert."

"What- I was just asking!" Harry said, grinning widely and wiggling his eyebrows up and down. 

"Potter," Draco sauntered in after Hermione, nodded at Harry, then at Ginny. 

"Kingsley's up top," Ginny informed them, "I take it you had to walk?"

"Yes," Hermione affirmed, "he couldn't apparate, so…"

She trailed off. Her eyes met Draco's. He shook his head, unnoticeably, but she noticed it just the same. She swallowed and closed her eyes. If he wanted her not to tell them, she wouldn't.

Hermione and Draco followed Ginny to the elevators, while Harry left to go to the interrogation rooms. It wasn't too crowded anymore, however there were a few people milling about. The elevator shot backwards first, then rattled on upwards. Hermione gulped in an attempt to keep down the sensation of throwing up. Draco was very green in the face. Ginny looked unaffected, and was even casually examining her nails (perhaps an advantage of playing Quidditch so often) There was a small cut over her lips, probably from the skirmish at Malfoy Manor. 

Now that they weren't in fatal danger, Hermione began to examine herself. She felt the cuts on her skin stinging in the rushing air, the slightly metallic taste in her mouth. Her head hurt awfully. But it was nothing even remotely close to what Draco had gone through. 

He had said that they had 'physically abused' him. Judging from the large bruises that had been covering his torso, they had done a pretty thorough job. Even as she watched him now, his fingers jerked and spasmed. There was a twitch in his neck muscles. 

"Go on," Ginny said when the lift doors grated open. Hermione stepped out after Draco. He looked tense and jittery, not to mention extremely apprehensive. 

"Ah, I was expecting you," Kingsley's voice boomed when Ginny nudged the door open with her foot. 

"Minister," Draco said, probably in a way of greeting. 

"Take a seat, both of you," he waved a hand in the direction of the chairs. Draco and Hermione took their seats gingerly, Ginny remained standing. 

"If you manage to give me a complete account, then I can clear you of all charges," Kingsley boomed, adjusting his glasses and peering at some papers before tossing them aside, "but first I must thank you. Rena Podmore has been interrogated, as has Bode. We understand that after the Malfoys, the Parkinsons, Dolohov, Yaxley and the Lestrange brothers were their targets. They were carrying out exactly what the Death Eaters had been. They wanted to eradicate one part of society."

Hermione could have laughed at how shallow it sounded. But she held back out of respect. 

The irony was gargantuan. They, the 'light' side, who had been fighting to prevent the Death Eaters from carrying out their blood-prejudiced and petty ways, had succumbed to the same faults. They were going against what they propagated. Gone from the light, not to the dark, but onto no-man's land. They were neither good nor bad. They only knew revenge. 

"You did not, in any way, carry out or assist in the event of the attack at Gringotts?" Kingsley asked, looking at Draco. 

"No, sir," he said firmly. 

"You were not aware that they were using Polyjuice potion, or you would have stopped them sooner or reported to the authorities?" Kingsley's scrutinising gaze was burning holes in Draco's head. Hermione winced sympathetically on his behalf. 

"No, sir," Draco said, not a trace of a falter in his voice.

"I beg your pardon?" Kingsley raised his eyebrows so high that they nearly disappeared into his hat. 

Hermione looked at Draco, panic stricken. What was he saying?

"I wouldn't report to the authorities," Draco clarified, "because the chances that anyone would believe me are close to nil."

"Even then…" Kingsley asked, his eyebrows never lowering.

"What are the chances that I would be able to walk in here after the attack, present my theory, and walk out without having raised suspicion?" Draco asked, leaning back in his chair, tilting his head slightly forward, a stance that made confidence and arrogance ripple off of him, "My word has no meaning, no stand, in your decisions."

Kingsley's eyebrows slowly lowered back to their normal position. He tucked his chin into his chest, in thought, "Perhaps you are right, Mister Malfoy."

"Perhaps I am," Draco said. 

"I'll look into your charges," Kingsley said, with a nod to him, "as for Miss Granger."

"Yes?" She straightened up a little, and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. 

"You seriously injured Mister Weasley," Kingsley said, looking slightly passively at her, "evaded Ministry officials knowingly and also injured them, and falsified your personality. You also assisted a wanted wizard - excuse my words, Mister Malfoy - while in your complete senses."

Hermione gulped. When said like that, it sounded pretty horrible. But she didn't regret any of it. 

"Your reason was that you were helping Mister Malfoy," Kingsley said, then his face softened, "you know, Hermione, that I can't bias anyone."

"Yes, I do," Hermione said, ignoring the ridiculously fast pace at which her heart was beating. She swallowed the painfully large lump in her throat.

"You were assumed a social threat, by the Ministry officials and aurors," Kingsley went on, "as was Mister Malfoy. He had reason, and is therefore not guilty of any crimes. In your case, however…"

"You can't do that."

Hermione's head swivelled around to look at Draco. He was glaring at Kingsley. 

"Mister Malfoy, the Wizengamot will not remain silent, they won't let her go just because of who she is," Kingsley said, a hint of sadness to his voice.

"You're the Minister!" Draco said, his voice rising, "You can say whatever the fuck you want, and they'll have to listen."

"Draco," Hermione placed a hand on his arm, "you know it has to be done."

"You don't need a trial!" Draco said, wildly waving his arms around, "You just succeeded in capturing extremely dangerous criminals single handedly, while the Ministry couldn't even detect the ongoings. If you deserve anything, it's a post as Head Auror."

"I'll do what I can to clear your charges, Hermione," Kingsley said, "I'll contact you soon."

"Thank you," Hermione gave him a watery smile. 

"Well, then, tell me the story," Kingsley said, trying to ease away some of the tension. 

They narrated all the events, the facts and points, in chronological order. Kingsley listened with rapt attention, only nodding and asking an occasional question to clarify minor doubts. When they were finished, he thanked them, and they left. Harry was in the interrogation rooms, and after bidding goodbye to Ginny, they walked to a bus stop. 

By the time they reached their apartment, they were both exhausted, miserable, and wanting sleep. They fell asleep on one of the couches, wrapped in each other's arms, breathing in each other's scents.